I just realized I hadn't written a KelxMerric! :O Well, there's We Live in Awkward Times, but that doesn't count.

Warning: a little bit of smut ahead!

The door to her chambers was ajar when Keladry rounded the corner, cracked just enough to allow muted candlelight to slant across the opposite wall. She quietly pushed it open, and half-smiled at the sight of Merric's shoulders hunched over her desk, his head jerking as he fought a losing battle of sleep.

She crept up behind him and gripped his shoulders, gently kneading them with strong fingers. He groaned, tilting his head back to rest against her chest.

"That feels good," he mumbled. "But you're going to put me asleep."

"It's nearing midnight," Kel admonished. "You should already be asleep."

He sighed, gesturing broadly to the pile of papers in front of him. "I have to look over these, and then write others. Lord Wyldon expects them by tomorrow."

"That's what you get for procrastinating."

Merric grunted, but didn't shrug her off when she wrapped her arms around him and set her chin on top of his head. His shirt was unbuttoned at the top and she slipped a hand through to rub his chest, her callouses rasping against his flesh. His heart beat steadily against her palm.

"Do you want some help?" she asked. "It'll be quicker."

"Thank you, but you got up earlier than I did this morning, and no doubt you will tomorrow morning as well. Get to bed. I promise I'll be there soon."

Kel gently kissed his ear, and smiled when she felt Merric shiver. It had been a difficult day, with new refugees coming into New Hope and Master Valestone running around with petitions and a particularly crabby group of men and women with a whole slew of complaints that were ridiculously trivial. It was common for one of them to be in bed by the time the other's duties were over; sex was definitely a privilege, and not easily accessible. Tonight, for once, she wanted to be normal. She wanted to be a woman.

"Come to bed," she murmured, her hand drifting lower. When it touched his belt, his breath hitched. "I miss you."

Merric grabbed her other hand and kissed her palm. "I haven't gone anywhere."

"It feels like it."

He turned his head, capturing her mouth in a warm kiss. His breath smelled of cider and honey, the latter probably from those honeycakes he constantly filched from the kitchens. She parted her lips and teased his tongue with her own until he roughly grabbed her by the hair. It hurt a little, when he tugged on it, but it was a pleasant kind of pain and did nothing more than inflame her.

"Ah," he said thickly, withdrawing. His eyes were dark and dilated, storm eyes, sex eyes. "I can't. The reports—"

"—can wait," she whispered. "Merric."

At his name, his lashes fluttered, and Merric placed his hands on her waist, drawing her closer. He untucked her shirt from her breeches and lifted it to press his lips against her belly. He tilted his head to look up at her solemnly as she raked her fingers through his hair. She knew he felt her trembling; she wanted him, and his hands stroking the back of her thighs set her flesh to quivering.

Kel grabbed his belt and tugged him toward her. Obediently, he allowed himself to be pulled toward the bed. They fell on it, body against body and mouth against mouth.

"When Wyldon asks me where the reports are, I'm blaming it on you," Merric murmured, hungrily kissing his way down her collarbone. Her belly clenched as he shoved her shirt and breast band up, baring her breasts.

"Mmm, what are you going to tell him?"

She watched as he threw his shirt across the room, and wiggled playfully when he tried to yank off her breeches.

"That you're a distraction," he said huskily, "and you're always pulling me away from my work. How will I ever get anything done?"

He bent down for another kiss, deep and slow, and she smiled against his mouth. "I'm sure you'll find a way."

Merric chuckled. And like Kel knew he would, he made her forget the duties of a knight, the burdens that come with commanding, and made her feel simple again.

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